Happy Days Are Here At Last
by PandaBear14
Summary: Just a short oneshot on Finchel. Futurefic!


**Hey! So I decided to revise all of my old stories, make em' longer…etc. etc. So here is the new & revised version of "Happy Days Are Here At Last"**

**Disclaimer: If you ever wonder if I own Glee ask yourself these questions: Have April and Shelby sang "What is this Feeling?" Has Rachel sang anything from Sunset Boulevard? Has Kurt finally gotten a chance to sing Defying Gravity for a competition?**

**If the answer to ANY of these is no, I do not own Glee. **

**There ya have it. Happy Reading!**

She was old. Her beauty was since gone, and the nose that she hated so much as a teenager was now covered in tiny wrinkles and brown spots. Her hands that had played piano so willingly as a child were swollen with arthritis. Her brown hair was now a faded shade of gray, a gray that seemed to her so dreary that she could barely stand to look at it.

Most of her friends were dead, dead from cancer or a car crash or suicide or just something that got in the way with living. The only friends that remained were mostly her old friends from Glee Club. The same Glee Club that remained a distant memory, with trophies long covered with dust and costumes that had settled in attics and sheet music that had long since joined with the earth.

And yet she was happy.

She had him, though he was old. His face had since lost its cuteness, and the hand that had broken her nose was twisted and knotted with arteries. His voice was still fair, though rough, and he used a cane. But she had the guy that she had yearned for, and she smiled at him as she made her way across the Visiting Center of the Arboretum, gripping her walker and she slowly walked to him. She sat down at the table he had reserved for them, holding his hand as the scratched wedding rings that read Finn Hudson and Rachel Berry-Hudson collided. She looked into his deep brown eyes, the depth of which never ceased to amaze her.

Her life had been amazing, more than she could have ever wished for. Rachel had been a teacher at a local high school, running chorus and the school musical. It wasn't the Broadway dream that she had always imagined for herself, but it was enough because she had him. Finn ran Kurt's dad's tire shop, working hard and earning a steady profit. Money was difficult to earn, however, and the first few years of their marriage they had trouble keeping the bills in check. But through hours and hours of Finn slaving away, of Rachel managing detention in hopes to just earn a bit more, they pulled through.

They finished their meal in silence, lavishing only on the other's company. They slowly stood up and walked, with Finn's arm slung over Rachel's shoulder, his abnormally tall height contrasting with Rachel's short height that had only decreased with age. They looked beautifully serene, as if the world could be ending and they wouldn't care as long as they had each other.

A young girl approached them, perhaps ten or eleven. She had a vulnerability to her that made it seem like she was scared of something, something that she did not know and would never know. Her eyes were open wide, and she seemed to shiver in the autumn temperature. She was wearing a light green jacket, and her hair shined reddish-brown in the sun. Her hands shook as she attempted to brush her hair back. She was carrying a small bag with an artist's notebook and a case of colored pencils. It was obvious that she was alone, that she had come to this place to escape whatever was her home. Her eyes looked sad as she asked the couple: "Excuse me? How long have you been married?" That was it. No giggling, no laughter, no beaming friends that would say, 'I can't believe you did that!' Those were the only words that left her mouth. But she felt like she had to know, she had to know that marriages could last long enough, that people could still be in love. She had to know if love was just a lie, if her whole life was based on a lie by people saying 'I love you.'

"I don't know," Finn said, like it didn't matter anymore. Like it had stopped mattering years ago, like marriage was not defined by years but by love.

"Thank you," the girl whispered, and as she walked away, they felt as if she walked taller, faster, with more confidence perhaps. And as she turned the corner, they saw the girl look back at them once. And as she turned away again, they saw a ghost of a smile.

**I hope you liked it. Reviews are amaaaazing and they do WONDERS for self-esteem and inspiration.**


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